Sun Glare Bridge: FLCL
by The Nightmare Prevention Crew
Summary: Rita is a 6th grade girl whose primary concern is growing up and being mature. She lives with her older brother who is a selfproclaimed children story writer. Rita engages with the original FLCL cast on her quest to adulthood.
1. Purpose of Sunglare

Part one: Purpose in Sun Glare

Cradled by the tall rocky hills, a small town lies, marked by a distinctive gray building structure. The building is fairly new, and particularly curious looking. It has the resemblance of an iron. It was the medical facility, and when it was built, everyone made a big deal about it. Especially the adults. The town houses, shops, and other buildings of the town crowded around it; that iron-shaped building was built in the center, as if trying to give off the impression that it had been there first --that the whole town of Mabase was built as an offering to it. Maybe it was.

The main road out of Mabase traveled on the large cable bridge that stretched over a river. Mostly adults used that road to go do adult things: work, drink alchohol, gamble, or what ever mature activities adults spend their time doing. The greenish paint on the bridge was peeling off, and it had the appearance of being rather old and untrustworthy as a bridge. A thirteen year old girl walked towards the worn-looking bridge. She was entering sixth grade today, and she had never crossed the bridge to the other side. She was afraid of crossing bridges, particularly this one, which looked less sturdy than others.

She had straight black hair that curled up at the shoulders. That morning, she pinned a single pink flower burette in her hair. She was mildly excited, but school wouldn't start for another forty minutes. She had a simple looking face that was more handsome than pretty, save for her almond shaped eyes. Her height was a problem for her; she stood taller than everyone else in class, measuring almost six feet. Her name was Rita.

---------Rita----------------

I was getting closer to the bridge. I wanted to stand mid way on it and look over the lake as the morning sun turned the water's surface to gold. But I became distracted by something I saw on my way there: that kid from my class last year, Nandaba Naota was sitting under the bridge with that high-schooler again. They both looked pretty boring. He wore a light blue coat and brownish shorts. She wore her school's uniform: a dark blue pleated skirt and sweater. He had short dark brown hair and she had a red sort of color hair that stopped at her shoulders. It looked fake.

Is it normal for boys these days to go after older women? What's so great about her, anyway? Not that it matters. Stuff like that is so unimportant.

The girls in my class usually gossip about that sort of thing: boys, love, romantic dreams they hold. I think it is a waste of time to worry about that stuff. Mom left because she wanted to find true love overseas after Dad died. I don't blame her for leaving. This place is really uninteresting, full of uninteresting people living uninteresting lives. But I doubt she will be able to find anything like true love. She should try to acheive more realistic goals like starting a shop, or going to college. Finding love abroad is such an unproductive endeavor.

My brother isn't much better. He is a freelance writer. It wouldn't be embarrassing if only he wrote something other than children stories. That is just so uncool. Besides, none of his stories make any sense. What is the point in writing a story that no one understands? I find him particularly unaccomplished as a writer, especially compared to authors of literary merit like Goethe or Mark Twain. Besides that, not once have his books been accepted to be published. He has sent many of his creations in to numberous different agencies, but they are quick to deny him any patronage.

I reached the bridge, and walked along side the railing until I stood above the edge of the water. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest. This bridge really is pretty creepy. I'm afraid of it collapsing while I am on it, and sending me down into the water. I imagine it is not only deep but terribly cold --cold enough to submit one to hypothermia. It's a scary thought. My brother laughs at me for my phobia. He crosses this bridge every night on his motorbike to go drinking with friends.

I looked out at the river, but the glare of the sun on the water was too harsh. I had to shade my eyes. It was supposed to be a pretty scene, but I was disappointed. I blocked the sun by hiding it behind my raised hand. When I looked down at the edge of the water, I saw that Nandaba Naota was standing up and gathering his things to head towards school. The highschool girl was lying on her back with her limbs spread out. Maybe I should be walking towards the school now, too. There wasn't anything special to look forward to there. It was just a place to be, a place to wait, a building designed to make kids feel like they have a purpose. Just like this town. It's just a place to exist, a place to waste away, it was designed to make people feel like they are living.

I turned my gaze towards the large medical facility --the one shaped like an iron. What was its purpose? Everyday it exhales large billowing clouds of steam that hide the sky. The artificial cloud blankets the town like artificial fog. It's kind of eerie, yet unforgivably mundane.


	2. Cantilever Sun rays

part two: Cantilever Sun Rays

The elementary school building wasn't impressively large or spacious, and it was noticably smaller than the high school a few blocks away. However, it served its purpose, and as far as Rita was concerned --considering so many people exist without having one-- purpose was more than enough reason for existing. Stepping into her assigned classroom through the door way, she scanned the room for familiar faces. She saw a handful of recognizable faces, but only two of them came with a remembered name: Eri Ninamori, and Nandaba Noata. Ninamori was the mayor's daughter. She had long, straight hair and dark eyes and in the light, her hair had a deep purple tint, but it still was considered black.

All the eyes of the students followed Rita as she walked lazily towards the empty seat by the window. They never seemed to get tired of gawking at her height. Even the relentless chattering ceased as she crossed the room. Rita didn't particularly like being the center of attention. She was glad the spare seat was towards the back of the room. She set her black messenger bag down on the hard tiled floor, and looked out the large rectangular window that touched the ceiling. The sky was a light blue, but it still had a rosy color where the sky met the land.

A younger looking girl with pigtails and a green ribbon glanced at Rita with large brown eyes. The girl nibbled on the tip of a yellow mechanical pencil as she observed her desk neighbor. Rita had rolled up the bottoms of her blue jeans to mid-calf, and wore skuffed up black logger boots. If you didn't take the ridiculous cream pink pullover into account, someone might think she was trying to look intimidating.

"Hi," the pigtail girl directed her greeting towards Rita, "My name is Kurokawa Shiori!"

Rita ignored Shiori, and kept her gaze set on things beyond the clean glass of the window. She didn't care much for introductions and small talk. She would rather discuss deeper issues. However, usually a person must walk through the shallow end of a river to reach the deep end. There were exceptions, and Rita longed for such exceptions as that, especially now.

"Don't bother," another girl said, turning to Shiori, "She's a mute ever since You-Know-What."

Shiori removed her attention from Rita. "No. I don't know what."

The other girl moved her finger, signaling Shiori should move her head closer. "Well," she whispered, "her mother abandoned her!"

"Yeah! She eloped with a mobster from Italy" an obnoxious boy butted in loudly.

"I heard the mobster was from Ireland" another boy joined in.

"There's no mobsters in Ireland." the girl said, still gesturing with her finger for Shiori to move her head closer.

"No, it was with a monster from Ireland! I remember now." the obnoxious boy corrected.

"Monster?" Shiori asked.

Rita cleared her throat loudly, and the four of the gossipers swallowed their words, and kept silent until they were stirred by another distraction.

------------------Rita----------------------------------

How annoying. These strangers discuss my personal business so openly with eachother while they pretend I can't hear them. Shouldn't they be paying attention to the teacher's lecture? Shouldn't I? What was she talking about, anyways? I bet it was something unimportant, like usual, so I bent down and reached my hand into my school bag to take out a book to read.

"A cantilever is a beam supported only on one end..."

The book I pulled out was Bridge of Sighs by Richard Russo. There was a bridge in Venice called the "Bridge of Sighs", a bridge in Oxford, England shares the same name.

"The Quebec Bridge in Canada is the longest cantilever bridge in the world..."

"Bridges..." Shiori sighed, and as I looked at her, she was closing her eyes dreamily. "Bridges are so romantic, don't you think?" Who was she asking?

The girl next to her, in the yellow stripped long sleeve shirt, moved her finger to get Shiori to move closer. Shiori obeyed, and the girl cupped her hand to corral the words into only Shiori's ears. "That kid in the blue, Naota, he does perverted things with his wife under Mabase's bridge!" Shiori blushed.

"Today's homework assignment is to research a bridge of your choosing..."

I could tell Naota over heard the loud gossip girls. He let out a sigh, I think --from what I could tell by his shoulders moving up and then down like that. I watched him look up to the digital clock by the door. I guessed that he was thinking, "How long until school is out?"

I wonder if he is going to sit under the bridge with his wife today and do perverted things. I moved my head away from them and looked out the window. Huge white steam clouds escaped from the medical facility and tried to cover the sun, but the sun beam still burned my eyes.


End file.
